Gray
by anathemawrites
Summary: Misery loves company, but perhaps not misery itself. Jojo and Jude.


**gray

* * *

**

_Having not written Across the Universe in an age and a day, this is refreshing. Squint and you'll miss it Jojo/Jude, but other than that, mostly friendship.

* * *

_

Misery loves company, but perhaps not misery itself.

* * *

Jude smells of art: charcoal, desperation, ink, pencil.

It's something Jojo has always associated with him, even though Max says Jude only became an artist when he came to New York. Personally, as he watches Jude sketch Sadie's languid form, Jojo thinks that he's always had it with him. It's like how Jojo has always known music, it's just that New York gave Jude some unspoken permission to let go.

He understands.

"'ow long 'ave y'played?" Jude asks out of the blue, curled up in his favorite arm chair. Party's in full swing, but Jojo isn't really one for them. "Th'guitar, I mean."

He thinks, strumming out a tune that sounds as close as he can get to Sadie's laughter. "Don't know," Jojo says, even when a coffin comes swimming to the forefront of his memory. "I just played more after the Riots."

Jude nods, vague idea of them in his head. It's something that makes Jojo go quiet, quieter than usual and Jojo respects him not asking, even if some part of him wants to tell. "Think you'll ever stop?"

"Think you'll ever stop drawing?" Jojo retorts, grin tugging at his lips. Jude laughs and raises his glass to that.

* * *

The bus ride is a haze of color and laughter.

Jude is tangled up in Lucy and Jojo, he's listening to everything: heartbeats, laughter, vibrations, wind, song, hair.

Max grabs the camera and Jojo plays a wild song, lifts them higher and higher and for a moment, he can't choose between Sadie, Max, or Jude.

He picks Jude.

* * *

Max is off to war, and Jojo watches. He's hurting all on his own, bereaved of more of a force than a man. But he only tells Sadie, but he has this feeling she's not listening.

Lucy, he _knows_ she isn't.

"Did you know—"

"—laying in front of tanks—"

"—Paco says—"

Jojo knows she's got her heart in the right place, but he can't help but feel left out.

He's not the only one, as he watches Jude's dark look.

* * *

Some people stay and some people go.

"You're telling me this shit _now?_" Jojo snaps at Sadie, sexy, _stupid_ Sadie who didn't even know what the hell she was doing.

"I tried to tell you before—" she protests and that's a lie. She speaks her mind, all the time, and that just makes him angrier.

"_Bullshit_," he hisses as they climb up on stage.

* * *

Sadie was supposed to stay.

But she doesn't.

* * *

Lucy isn't there when he moves out.

"_Please_," Jude begs, and Jojo shakes his head. The apartment is filled with SadieSadieSadie, and now she's gone. He can't afford(want) to stay here. "You're th'last one. It's too big for me an'Luce—"

"I can't," Jojo says, placing his things into his old bag. "Man, I can't. She's _gone_." Jude looks pale and deflated as Jojo goes on, "Could _you_ stay here if Lucy were gone?"

When Jude's eyes drop, Jojo knows he understands.

* * *

His new apartment is clean, small, closed off.

There are no drawings by Jude or random partygoers on the wall.

No smell of pot, alcohol, fresh fruit, or a cat.

Still, Jojo hangs up Jude's rough sketch of Sadie and decides to call it home.

* * *

"Seems like I see you here more than anywhere else," Jojo remarks as he sits next to Jude. The Question is still open, but it's lonelier than ever.

"I come 'ere for the music," Jude says, and it's only half true as he drains what has to be his fifth shot. He sniffs, and the redness in his eyes isn't from pot, but tears. "Seein' as 'ow Lucy's never home anymore."

Jojo wants to say he's surprised, but he isn't. "Looks like we're the only two left, huh?"

The toast is hollow and the drink that follows is bitter.

* * *

Jude starts to become a regular on Jojo's couch.

Whether he wants it or not, Jojo comes home to the smell of ink and alcohol, sometimes pot.

One look on Jude's sprawled, tired form is all he needs to know.

* * *

"Looks like you've been fighting for the Cause yourself," he remarks, looking at Jude's black eye. It's the now rare time that Jude's going back to the apartment, to Lucy.

Jude snorts, shrugs it off, and confirms what Jojo's been expecting: neutrality.

He tries to be neutral himself, neutral to the news of Sadie, the rumors of her breakdowns at concerts, of her voice on the radio…

He tries to shut himself off and as Jude makes his way up the stairs to his Lucy, he hopes Jude can at least stay neutral.

Jojo doesn't know how long it will be until misery eats him up and breaks what little else he has.

* * *

(_when he turns on the television to see jude's bloodied face, sees him hauled off by the police, he's got no option but to pack up and leave_)


End file.
